Triggering the End
by Cheria
Summary: AU - Nami was given the job of handling one man by the name of Sanji; and as easy as it was to seduce him, he came to be the cause of a number of turmoils in her mind.


Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or any of its contents, Oda Eiichiro does.

* * *

"Baratie," he stated, "is the location of your target."

And her initial thought was, _what the heck is that_?

As it turned out, Baratie was the name of a recent restaurant that was rising in popularity. Having opened about two months ago, it had quickly gained many customers with astounding reviews for its dishes. The food had apparently been so delectable that it never received anything below high praises that called for constant visits. Strangely, it also seemed to fluctuate in terms of its income according to the charts, as the number of customers appeared to significantly decrease or increase on certain days. That was the only solid complaint the reviews had deduced on the food, claiming that the astounding quality of the meals often changed depending on the day or time.

It was probably someone with set shifts, she had mused. From the ever changing numbers on the graph and various comments, Nami was sure it was a one- or two-man cooking army that displayed superb culinary skills. Then again, that in itself was rather unbelievable - one or two persons, accomplishing all that in a short span of time? She doubted it.

Nevertheless, Baratie was a prestigious dining place, and she planned on enjoying the food before carrying out her task. She had already memorized her orders, and looking back at the paper of instructions would be a waste of time. She might as well kill some time tasting the delicacies until the rightful moment for her actions came. As prepared as she was for _her_ job, however, she hadn't been expecting the visual... appeal of Baratie.

_Prestigious. Right - it looks cheap._

Nami had assumed the restaurant would look expensive or show some sign of luxury, but she found that she was utterly wrong. The outside of Baratie looked, put simply, _cheap_. And Nami did not trust cheap looking places, as they were often crawling with ridiculous scams. The walls were plain, colored a bright shade of pink and other assortment of colors that complemented it - at least the people who painted or organized it had some mild taste of fashion. From the modesty of it all, Nami would have mistaken the place for a grocery shop of sorts, but the big letters that read 'BARATIE' on a sign above the entrance told her otherwise. Stifling a sigh of disappointment at the not-so grand sight, she was about to open the door when it blew right open for her as a figure brushed past her and a booming voice called out:

"Thank you, don't ever come back again!"

As if it didn't look cheap enough already, it occurred to Nami that the people that worked at the restaurant were _probably_ not right in the head. Who told their customer to never come back?

"I ain't your customer!" A shout came from behind her - presumably the person that had walked out - and she instantly knew it was a young man from the somewhat hoarse yet masculine voice.

When she glanced forward, a bulky man dressed in a standard chef's uniform was standing dumbfounded near the door, staring straight ahead at the retreating figure. He had an impressive beard and a band around his head, as if he were some sushi merchant. Judging from the look on his face, Nami figured the cook knew the person that was leaving.

"Why are you leaving early?" he shrieked, making a move to throw the slightly over sized fork in his hand when another stocky cook, who was donning a pair of shaded glasses, stopped him.

"You know him, he pulls that act all the time."

"Too many times, if you ask me," the first cook grunted. "We ought to tell the Head about this."

The bespectacled cook shook his head dismissively, "Aye, Patty, the Head already knows." At this, the other threw up his hands indignantly, when he spotted Nami, who was busy staring.

"Oh, a customer! Welcome, welcome; what would you like today, Miss?" The sudden change in his attitude did not surprise her in the least. If he was to leave a good impression on the clients, good character was one way to pursue it. Unfortunately for him, what she saw beforehand engraved a permanently awkward opinion of her to him, and no matter what he did, her perspective wasn't going to change.

* * *

She had to hand it to them, the food was great. Shortly after ordering her meal, the wait hadn't been long, and it had been delightful despite the little time that had lapsed. Still, Nami was skeptical of the reviews - the food was _good_, but not something to drool all over like they made it out to be. Either the critics were getting dramatic or they needed to fire the ones that had tested Baratie and have new employees taste and judge for real results. Or, if her theory proved to be true, the main person that was the culprit behind the impressive meals was not clocked in. In conclusion, she wasn't planning on coming back anytime soon once she left. But first and foremost, it was time for her to commence her work.

"Excuse me - Patty, was it?" she called out, catching the attention of said cook as he sauntered over to her with a huge grin plastered on his face. "You wouldn't mind telling me who made this, would you?"

"Why, of course not! I serve to make the customer happy," he replied, his expression unwavering. "This here was whipped up by Carne. And this...," he trailed off as Nami hid a frown.

_Carne? Not the guy I need._

When Patty inquired why she wanted to know, she merely forced a smile - something she was quite used to. "Oh, nothing. My compliments to the chef, it was good." Patty seemed to crack up at the statement and was trying to hide his laughter, but his efforts were miserable. She quirked a brow at his questionable response.

"'tis the first time Carne has gotten a compliment!" he exclaimed and turned around to wave at the bespectacled cook from earlier. "Carne! This young lady says she enjoys your food!" Said employee shook his head and trudged away with a dish in hand.

Taking the opportunity to her advantage, Nami piped up. "Who else works here?"

Patty paused and stopped to think. "There's many of us here, Miss. Our Head is Chef Zeff, and that over there was Carne. I'm Patty, and me and Carne have been with the Head since the beginning. The rest are rookies."

For a moment, there was silence as she expected more. However, when he said nothing else, she shifted. "... What about your Assistant Head Chef? There should be one."

The cook's eyes bulged comically. "Aye, that Assistant Head Chef of ours is a rascal! Has a bad attitude, that one; often picks a fight with the customers and flirts with all the ladies." She didn't like where his description was going and figured that this was not the person she was looking for, either. Still, for extra precaution, she had to know more.

"What's his name?" she pressed.

"Sanji."

_No _way_. This can't be the guy. _Gulping mentally, she ventured further, "And where is he?"

"He just left, Miss. He's the one that passed you when you came in."

Oh, misfortune. She knew it well, and she absolutely loathed it.

* * *

Due to some unexpected turn of events, Nami found herself returning to the Baratie after a week. The appearance of the restaurant was no longer as repulsive as she initially criticized it to be, but that was only because she had visited once before. Hopefully, this Sanji did not decide to bail this time around, as she honestly did not want to keep coming back until she ran into him. Nami knew lingering and repeatedly coming to one area was potential disaster, especially what with her occupation.

Patty was not the one to serve her this time. Rather, it had been Carne who she deemed to be more sensible than the former cook, but by a mere little margin. With their personalities and all, they could have been brothers for all she knew. She'd ordered a meal again - business had not been going so well lately for her, and she'd found herself wanting a good dish after the past few busy days.

Much to her surprise, the food that came around this time was _enchanting_. The flavor lingered in her mouth and, in general, the taste was simply amazing. Not to mention, the dish was incredibly visually appealing to the point it seemed like a crime to take it apart and consume it. Her dubbed one-man cooking army was definitely in-shift today.

While she had been expecting Carne to pick up her empty plates, someone else she did not recognize sauntered over. A lanky blond with a notable stubble and a spiral eyebrow, clad in a simple yet imposing suit, approached her table and took all her dishes in his arms with one graceful movement.

"Wait one moment, Mademoiselle," he reassured before moving in and out of the kitchen at the speed of light, returning to her with not a hair out of place. It was a both impressive and amusing feat.

"Now that that has been taken care of...," and he was by her side in an instant, offering a delectable dessert that looked quite expensive, as he went off into a tangent, "a fruit macedonia for the lady; to have met you, such a wondrous beauty, I must be blessed! Oh, what incredible fate! If I may, would you be as kind as to grace me with your name?"

_You're kidding me_.

Holding back the urge to scrounge up her face from the dramatic quote, Nami clasped her hands together and smiled graciously, "Thanks. I'm Nami - and are you, by any chance, the Assistant Head Chef?" For all his womanizing, she was sure he was.

"Not a problem, Mademoiselle," he cooed. "Yes, my name is Sanji, and I'm the Assistant Head Chef of the Baratie."

"You must be an excellent cook then."

Sanji beamed proudly and gestured to the table. "Quite. I specifically decorated the meal you just finished to suit your taste; a special dish."

"Oh, you were the one who cooked that? That was a great meal." And once she took a bite of the macedonia, Nami was very convinced that Sanji was no ordinary or amateur cook - he had actual skill.

Whatever he was prattling on about now, she was not listening. The first part of her job was done, and the need for initating the second stage was immediate. Glancing at the watch on her wrist, she feigned an apologetic look and made a move to stand up.

"I need to get going now. It was nice talking to you."

"And I to you. Oh, what tragedy it is for you to leave so quickly! For you, I'd give up anything." The irony to come from the statement tempted her to snort, but she decided against it.

"By the way, the food is a bit on the expensive side...," she trailed off and Sanji was quick to respond.

"For you, it's free."

Nami smiled, swung her bag over her shoulder, and made way for the door. "Great. Thanks, Sanji-kun!" Familiarity was the best way to net a man, and she would need the advantage when she came back for the second round. And, well, he wasn't as bad as she thought he was from what Patty had told her - just a tad too expressive for her taste.

* * *

So as to avoid seeming too suspicious with frequent visits, Nami returned in another week. Unfortunately, while Sanji was present this time, she could not get in contact with him. An old man with an incredibly huge toque and interesting pair of braided mustaches was apparently lecturing him on various flaws in his character as the Assistant Head Chef, and she found herself gaping when the elder harshly kicked Sanji. The other customers simply observed and continued eating as if it were natural, and Nami found herself doing the same. She left without him ever knowing she'd been there.

The next time after three days ended with little progress. She'd spoken with Sanji, but only a few lines were exchanged, as he was called into the kitchen by the same old man from before (by this time she assumed he was the Head). The Assistant had emerged in a matter of seconds with a bloody mouth and bruised head. Well; now she knew why the reviews had said the _food_ was exquisite. It complimented very little on the restaurant's environment, and she figured this was why. There were frequent fights, from either the cooks or amongst them and the unreasonable customers.

When she came back in a week, Sanji had bailed, much like the first time.

The following day, she stepped into the sight of a bloody customers in the Assistant's clutches, and a broken bowl on the floor with plenty of soup seeping out from the cracks and forming a large puddle.

By the end of the month, Nami was frustrated. The target had displayed much potential of being dangerous when it would be time for her to take care of him, and it had been difficult to talk to him to start with. In the two occasions she'd spoken with him, Sanji was already a willing gentleman when it came to her needs, no matter what she wanted; but ultimately, she could not put his weakness to use when getting in touch was impossible.

Then, finally, she managed to pull him out of the restaurant when she returned.

"Nami-san, did you need something?"

"I've been thinking, since you seem to have a nice sense of style and I need a new outfit, if you wanted to accompany me." Shortly after her finishing words, she saw that he was nodding energetically, a goofy grin on his face that made her want to just pinch the cheek until it turned red. "How about your work?"

"Not a problem."

And so he bailed. Again.

She'd thought that Sanji had a good fashion sense judging from the suit he always wore, and she was right. Their tastes were surprisingly similar, and Nami was quite glad to see that he had no problem with her wearing ridiculously short skirts - he'd readily accepted it with a bloody nose. Most people stared disapprovingly at her, and it was nice to have a change of opinion on the matter. Not that she would have cared if he had protested in the first place.

On their way back to the Baratie, for she had found an outfit she thought to be suitable for her, they stopped by an accessory store. Window shopping was not something Nami enjoyed much, as it made her feel poor, but she found herself staring at a particular item on display. Noticing her lack of attention on his words, Sanji followed her gaze and locked on to a rather expensive bracelet with immense detail in its design. It was a remarkable piece of work, that much he could say. In the end, however, Nami had brushed her longing off, and they went back to the restaurant. In the meanwhile, Sanji had continually stolen glances back at the store, memorizing the location for future reference.

* * *

She had to admit, of all the men she had went about seducing, this one had fallen for her the quickest. From the way he often stared and fawned over her in contrast to the other women that came to the restaurant, Nami knew this much. Which was why she decided to speed up her process to get the job over with.

"Say, Sanji; how old are you?" It was a sort of question she asked all her targets, though it was not mandatory.

"I, Nami-san, am at nineteen years of age."

_He's still young._

And, heck, because it was driving her up the wall: "Out of curiosity, why do you cover your left eye?"

Sanji momentarily froze before turning his head, as if to avoid her eyes. Then he looked back and offered a slight smile.

"It can't see. Malnutrition."

It was a rather puzzling answer, as Nami knew that the chef made sure his food contained all sorts of nutritional recipes for a healthy body. Still, she decided not to push the conversation and press into his personal life.

After some light contemplating, she decided to end things the following week.

* * *

It was dark, and the Baratie had closed a good hour or two ago. Due to prior arrangements, Nami had gotten in before closing, courtesy of Sanji, who'd gone off to purchase supplies for the restaurant.

The sound of shuffling could be heard outside, and that was how she knew he had arrived. The taps of his shoe as he lifted a foot up and down out of impatience was evident; she could imagine him fumbling with the keys to draw out the right one to unlock the door. After some daily routines, she had come to find that he often went grocery shopping late in the afternoon, usually bringing back bags that no normal person could have carried entirely by himself - but with his insane flexibility and competency, he pulled it off somehow.

Finally, the door flung open. "Nami-san! I hope I didn't keep you waiting."

Keeping her head bowed with her purse on her lap, she shook her head. "No, don't worry about it. You gave me plenty of time to prepare." Her tone sounded more distant than usual, and the way she said them should have brought on some suspicion; however, Sanji either completely ignored the hint or didn't pick it up.

After holding the bags steady and closing the door with a gentle kick, he pranced over to her in apparent excitement. Nami knew at this point that his visible eye had been replaced with a heart, like it always did whenever he saw her.

"To prepare? Oh, did you plan something just for the two of us? Nami-san is so sweet!" The oozing joy in his voice rubbed her the wrong way (though she couldn't place why). She decided to blame her current mood on that.

"As a matter of fact; yeah, I did."

There was a click, and when Sanji turned to face her after putting down the grocery, he was met with the sight of a holster. Then it really did click in his brain. She was aiming a weapon in his direction, squarely adjusting her arms to make sure the bullet would hit him once released. He blinked a couple times before fully turning to face her. She wasn't smiling.

"Nami-san...?"

She dismissed the genuine confusion. "Your words mean nothing to me. I'm just doing my job."

Silence reigned, when realization dawned and Sanji lowered his voice to a whisper.

"I'm sorry."

She was stunned. She'd had men scream at her; yell, curse, even attempt to hit her, throw themselves at her feet mumbling how much they loved her - but this had never occurred before. The words were foreign and alien to Nami, and because of her sudden surprise, she was taken back. Previous cries and desperate pleas for life was common to her ears, but not this. She was the one who was going to do the unspeakable, why was he the one apologizing? He never made sense to begin with, she figured, and it shouldn't have been so shocking.

Biting her lower lip, she took aim. "Why are you apologizing?" she demanded, "If anything, I should be the one to do that. I'm the one trying to kill you!"

"I know," he stated flatly, and her grip on the gun tightened, "I knew from the start." Reaching into his breast pocket, Sanji pulled out a cigarette and lit it with expertise, blowing a smoke.

_Who is he kidding?_ There was no way he had seen past her guise, she was supposed to be undetectable.

"No way," Nami breathed, "you couldn't have. Nobody has before."

The veil of smoke covered his face and single eye, and he took a deep breath. "I have; ever since Patty mentioned that you were seeking me out - Shitty Old Man didn't want me around you, either. But I chose to not believe it. To think that someone so beautiful and pure could have had such intentions was despicable."

Not to be funny or anything, but Nami wanted nothing more than to throw the gun down onto the ground and simply _laugh_. Sanji was always so exaggerated and animated, as if he was permanently in a drama, and this could not have been any different from his usual cooing. She couldn't name anyone else that used words as cheesy and old as he did. He probably saw it as one big joke and was preparing to fawn the living daylight out of her. Sanji wasn't the type to take threats seriously, and with him completely obsessed with her, this definitely did not add to his list. That much she knew for sure.

But she was trembling, and he noticed immediately.

"Nami-san," he called, stepping toward her slowly yet firmly to signify no ill-intent on his part. When she didn't answer, he slid a hand around the weapon in her hand, dismissing the possibility of it setting off and unceremoniously forming a hole in his head. He was incredibly gentle this time around, too much to the point Nami had a hard time concentrating for no real reason, and he pursed his lips. Then it happened.

The movement had been extremely quick, her sight had not been able to keep up. Sanji had stuck one leg out and hooked it around hers, pushing and switching their positions so that her back was where he had standing seconds ago. Then he'd put his hand to work and she realized a bit too late that, while she was still holding the gun, his index finger was the one resting against the trigger. His other arm was resting on her back in an embrace. He no longer stood hunched, but straight up, showing just how much he reigned over her in terms of height.

His grip was strong and decisive, and Nami was unable to twitch a finger. It wasn't difficult to understand what he was trying to do.

"This is my job and I'll be the one to finish it," she hissed, pushing at his chest with her free hand, but he refused to budge.

"I'd hate to burden you more with my blood, Nami-san. But please allow me to be selfish for tonight," he pressed the holster against the left side of his chest, "and hold you for just a bit longer.

I'm sorry I wasn't able to keep you happy for any longer. You're pure, Nami-san. It doesn't matter how many people you've killed before me; you have a certain air about you that says more than you ever will, yourself. Would you like to know what it says?" he paused and continued when she didn't respond: "Loneliness."

"... I hope those were your last words."

And before he could properly register those words, she squeezed and pushed her index finger to collide with his, triggering the end.

He didn't fall, and for a moment Nami thought one more bullet was necessary. But as it turned out, it wasn't needed when she felt the hands on her back and the gun relax and falter. Shaking herself out of his gentle yet deceased grip, Nami pulled away and tucked the weapon back into her purse, her expression neither a frown nor look of sadness. She made it a point to avoid gazing at his face and kept her eyes glued to the floor. Shortly after packing her things - Nami took her leave.

The next day, news of a failed murder attempt reached her ears.

She never noticed the bracelet in her back pocket.

* * *

Authoress' Notes: As I am unsure... should I continue? It may become a two-shot (where reasons and more information will be included for wrapping things up with elaborated scenes to show the growth of their relationship - since I skipped a bulk of that - as well as a continuation of the ending), but for now it'll remain a one-shot. Other than that, hope you enjoyed this.


End file.
